


The Newest Exhibit

by sergeant_angel



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Night at the Museum (Movies), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Happy Halloween!, Unadulterated Crack, dad!Phil, i'm not sure if i'm proud or ashamed of this tbh but HERE IT IS ANYWAY, kate 'why am i surrounded by old dudes who are HOT' bishop, kate + dinosaurs the true brotp, kate gets a ~real~ job, look oh my god i don't even know, this is what you guys come here for right?, time ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 08:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12526756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sergeant_angel/pseuds/sergeant_angel
Summary: Kate Bishop gets a job as assistant night guard at the Museum of Natural History.Well, technically, it's a cover. SHIELD's gotten a hot tip that Kang the Conqueror will be stealing something from the museum, and Kate's there to head him off.She's pretty sure this will be a super boring job, but at least she'll be able to catch up on her sleep. Right?(she is, of course, absolutely wrong)





	The Newest Exhibit

**Author's Note:**

> not beta'ed. never beta'ed. do betas actually exist, or are they a myth?

Kate is pretty sure this assignment is fake. And a punishment. 

Well, the assignment is fake, but the punishment is real.   
  
“I made you lunch,” Phil says, stretching across the passenger seat to hand her a brown paper bag. As if lunch made up for the bogus nature of the assignment. 

 Phil is a good cook, so it definitely softens the blow. 

Not enough that Kate doesn’t roll her eyes at him and huff as she turns to walk up the stairs of the Museum of Natural History. 

“Try to make friends!” He calls to her, like the world’s most obnoxious and overprotective parent. “I packed you a snack, too!” 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

“I’m sorry,” the docent looks back down at her computer. “I don’t understand.” 

“I’m the new night guard.” 

The docent’s eyes flick to Kate, then back down to the computer, then to Kate’s arm, which is in a sling. “I wasn’t aware we were interviewing for another night guard.” 

“You weren’t. I’m here as part of a government initiative to better guard our national monuments, treasures, and general history.” Mileage may vary if you’re guarding Steve Rogers.  

The docent blanches at Kate’s words.  

“It’s already been ok’d by the guy…Dr. McPhee? He gave me the go-ahead,” Kate offers the woman what she hopes is a comforting smile.  

“Right.” The woman glares at her computer screen, brow furrowed. “Well, I’m not sure Larry will be able to accommodate you tonight, but let me take you to his office and see what we can come up with.” She stands, and Kate catches a glimpse of her name badge. _Rebecca_. Rebecca doesn’t smile at Kate, or introduce herself, and sets a brisk pace down the hall, pausing only for a moment to shoot a worried glance and the model of Teddy Roosevelt.  

Weird.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

“You’re _what_?” Larry Daley, night guard, is staring at Kate like she’s just informed him that she’d killed his best friend.  

“The new night guard. I’m not here to cause trouble, so don’t worry about—“ what do normal people with normal jobs worry about? “—about me telling your boss you spend two hours playing Candy Crush, or whatever.” 

“But _why_?” 

Because we got a tip that a time-traveling megalomaniac is going to try and steal a powerful magical artifact from the museum, only nobody knows what it looks like, just that we can’t let him have it. Because a Doombot dislocated my shoulder and I’m not supposed to Avenger for the next two months. Because Phil thinks that having a regular job will build character, or build _a_ character, the character of financially unsupported heiress Kate Bishop. Because Coulson didn’t like my critique of his potential proposal to Fury. Take your pick. 

“Government oversight,” she lies.  

Larry Daley looks at her as if she’d casually declared her intentions to brutally murder him in his sleep. He is giving her far more surprised and horrified looks than she really thinks a security guard should have. 

Larry nods at her. “Okay. Well, I should probably walk you through the museum so you can get an idea of the layout, and then I’ll…uh, have you go through the training manual in here. While I do my first round and lock everything up.” 

“Shouldn’t I follow you? Wouldn’t that—“ 

“No, no following. You have to complete the training with a 90% pass rate on all the tests before I can let you out on the floor. For safety.” 

Bull.  

What the hell is going on in this place?  

“So, uh. Do you have any questions about the job?” 

“It seems pretty straightforward. You guard. At night.” 

“Right! That’s about it. Pretty boring.” Larry laughs unconvincingly. “Ha, ha. Look, I’m going to go scrounge up the training materials. Rebecca probably has them, the last person to be hired for the night shift was me. Stay here,” he warns, before backing out the door. 

“What the hell,” Kate says when she’s sure he’s out of earshot. 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Larry and Rebecca manage to scare up some training materials, though it looks like some of them haven’t been used in a decade. Some of them look like they were just pulled from the internet, and some of them have essay portions.  

Clearly, this is busy work. And busy work means there’s something to hide.  

And if there’s something to hide, it means that there’s something _worth_ hiding, and if Larry and Rebecca know something’s _worth_ hiding then that means there is a conspiracy to hide something worth hiding which means that this might be a real job. 

Kate thumbs through her inch-high stack of paper. _Is regicide ever justified? Please explain your answer_ is at the top of one sheet, followed by _Ancient Rome vs the Wild West: Which is better? Discuss,_ along with _Which_ _ancient Egyptian figure is your favorite? Note: Cleopatra was of Greek descent and doesn’t count_ and _Please_ _illustrate the way the Antiquities Act of 1906 positively affected the American landscape_ _, both literal and figurative_ and _List five ways the Lewis and Clark Expedition would have failed if not for Sacagawea_.  

There is clearly an agenda behind these questions. 

Hidden agendas are her specialty. 

She’s got this. 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

She spends two days in the subbasement, working her way through a stack of paper she thinks is getting bigger. 

Maybe she doesn’t got this. 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

“Oh, wow!” Larry Daley’s enthusiasm is incredibly unconvincing. Larry Daley of Daley Devices, inventor, single dad, singularly unspectacular dude. “Done already?” 

It’s been three days, but sure! Done already. Done with lion safety and learning about different monkey species and Roman battle tactics—though to be fair she knew that one already. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted my sources formatted MLA or Chicago style.” 

Larry looks lost, Rebecca looks impressed, as Kate drops the stack of paper on the information desk. Her answers might not be great, but the questions are answered. There are words on pages that required words and checkmarks on pages with boxes to be checked. She has learned proper lifting techniques, and how to embrace diversity in the workplace.  

“So,” Kate smiles brightly at the pair of them. “Tour?” 

Larry glances at his watch, and then at the doors, as if looking for something. “Right! Quick tour. T-Rex in the middle here, Teddy Roosevelt over there—“ 

It feels like Larry is on fast-forward, propelling her through the museum and steamrollering her questions. Larry Daley, former CEO of Daley Devices, night guard for the Museum of Natural History, is not a subtle man. Clearly trying to hide something. Is it where all of the money he got from selling his company went? Is it why an inventor who owned a very successful company is working a slightly-better-than-minimum-wage security job? Do either of these things have anything to do with Kang? 

She thinks about all of this as Larry ushers her through the museum in double-time until they get to the Frontier gallery with the display of Sacagawea and Lewis and Clark. For the first time since taking this job, Kate digs her heels in. She remembers this part of the museum. It used to be her favorite part. As a kid, she'd sneak away from field trips to curl up next to the glass. As a teen, she'd come in just to sit on the benches in the middle of the room to look at the familiar face of Sacagawea.  

“Hey, look, I know this is boring but we’ve got a schedule to keep—“ Larry cuts himself off. “Hey.” His eyes dart from the model of Sacagawea to Kate and back again. “Wait, are you—you’re not related to her, are you?” 

"Am I—"  

"Related—"  

"To Sacagawea." Kate finishes flatly.  

"Yeah."  

"Why?"  

Larry shrugs at the model of Sacagawea behind the glass. "You, uh. Kinda look like her."  

"You know that's not actually her, right?" Kate side-eyes him until he looks properly chagrined. 

"Uh. Yeah."  

Kate looks at the model again, giving a little half-sigh. "But the guy who did the model had my grandmother sit for him. Back in the thirties, I think?" 

“She’s not that old,” Larry informs her. “She’s made of polyurethane, and that wasn’t invented until around World War Two…what?” 

Kate blinks and tries to stop giving him a Look. “That’s just...how do you know what she’s made of? Who knows that much about polyurethane?” 

“I know stuff about stuff,” Larry’s the one glaring now. Well, and who is Kate to judge? It’s not like her extensive knowledge of archery and weapons in general is _normal_.  

“Fine. Maybe it wasn’t the thirties. Maybe this is a newer model, and the original was wax or something. Look, dude, I know my grandmother when I see her.” _She reminds me of my mom_ , Kate doesn't say. 

“Okay, okay,” Larry puts his hands up in surrender. “It does explain the uncanny resemblance. C’mon, we gotta keep moving.” 

“Why are you trying to hustle me through here? By all accounts you love this place. You don’t think it’s boring, you’re part of the reason attendance is up. What gives?” 

“I have a very specific, very important _routine_ ,” Larry has her elbow in one hand and her other arm over her shoulders as he pushes her along, back to the office. “The safety and security of the museum is at stake, and I’m not going to let some interloper get in the way. No offense.” 

“I have been called so much worse.” 

“Great,” Larry ushers her through the door and sits her in the desk chair. He’s surprisingly strong for a guy who just watches a bunch of old stuff at night. Kate could take him, sure, but the _whys_ of his strength just get added to the pile of weird going on at this place. “I want you to do some research on…Attila the Hun. It’s important to be familiar with history when you work at a museum. Stay here until I come and get you,” he jabs an accusing finger at her, as if she’s already trying to leave.  

“For sure.” 

“Stay _here_ ,” he repeats. 

“Oh my god.” 

Larry seems satisfied at that, and strides out of the office, shutting the door behind him. She can hear his shoes clomp across the floor, fading— 

Only not fading, he’s just stepping more softly so she thinks he’s gone. 

The lock makes a soft sound as Larry locks her in the office.  

Cute. 

She waits until his footsteps recede—for real this time— into the museum before getting out of the desk chair. 

Kate sings softly to herself as she pulls her lockpicks out of her boots. “Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to work we go—“ 

There is a very loud noise that sounds an awful lot like an elephant trumpeting. She doesn’t remember seeing any of those _push for sound_ buttons but there must have been. Kate goes back to humming and lockpicking when she hears the unmistakable clatter of hooves.  

And a whinny. 

“That’s weird,” Kate mutters to her lockpicks, rotating one of them.  

There is a very human-sounding shout that is quickly muffled. 

The lock clicks, and Kate opens the door. 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

After three steps she stops. Not because of anything, or any weird noises—the museum is silent again, or mostly silent, but she can still hear an awful lot of movement—but because her footsteps are too noisy. 

Kate leans against a wall as she takes off her boots and rolls up the legs of her pants to improve her mobility. She tucks the shoes into the pot of the nearest plant, giving her arms an experimental twist. The jacket is too noisy; into the ficus it goes.  

Deeming herself as stealthy as she’s going to get without a tac suit, Kate proceeds down the hall and up the stairs.  

She notices that something is off about the entrance to the museum right away. It takes her a few seconds to realize that it’s because a giant tyrannosaurus skeleton is _missing_ , and she feels really dumb that it took her so long.  

She’s caught up in the missing t-rex so it takes her even longer to realize that the model of Roosevelt and Tex is also missing.  

What. In the _what_.  

A quick glance into the hall of miniatures shows both the Roman and Wild West displays empty, and she thinks about that question in her training paperwork. She’s just about to duck back out when she notices that one diorama is still peopled, as it were. The Ancient Maya display is locked up, but it looks like Larry had enough time to line all the figures up so it seems like they’re looking forlornly out into the room. Kate spies movement from the display at the same time she hears noise from upstairs, like massive pieces of stone grating together.  

Kate races up to the next floor and down the hall towards the noise, but stops in front of the moai from Easter Island. Not because it’s impressive—though it is—or because the noise down the hall has started coming from both wings—though it has. 

It’s because there’s a flying robot, a drone of some sort, scanning the moai. 

And the robot is in a familiar and obnoxious combination of blue, green, and purple. 

It doesn’t notice her, too absorbed in its scanning task, until Kate is practically on top of it.  

The robot registers her with a screech that is abruptly silenced because, well. It was floating at head height, and Kate and Clint have been watching a lot of soccer lately. 

Kate could swear the moai says, “Good shot, dum-dum,” as she staggers down the hall towards the Egypt room. 

She should have kept her boots on because now she’s dizzy and slipping in her socks and hearing things to boot, because she _swears_ the moai yells, “Better come-come, dum-dums! New kid on the run-run!” 

By that time, she’s reached the Egypt room. 

“Huh,” Kate says. “This was not what I was expecting.” She presses a hand to her forehead and her fingers come back streaked with blood. Which is what you get for headbutting a drone into a moai. 

The moai had called her a dum-dum after she’d done it, which is a fair assessment of the situation, assuming it was actually speaking and wasn’t some sort of hallucination caused by the drone. 

Considering she’s staring at Teddy Roosevelt, Attila the Hun, Sacagawea with her grandmother’s face, and a guy who’s dressed like a pharaoh, it may well be a hallucination. 

“Ugh,” Kate leans against something smooth and hard, sliding down it to the floor. She looks up to see one of the giant Anubis statues, staring down at her. “Well, crap,” she mutters, her eyes sliding shut. 

When her eyes snap back open, it’s because someone is shining a light into one of them.  

“No concussion,” a man says, someone with a British accent with a hint of something else.  

“What are you, a doctor?” Kate bats the flashlight away. 

“I did go to Cambridge.” 

“Good for you. I went to space, but that doesn’t make me an astronaut.” Kate frowns, which is a bad idea because it makes the cut on her forehead bleed more. “Wait, does that make me an astronaut? I mean, technically?” 

The guy with the accent swipes at her cut, a stinging sensation following in his wake.  

Kate jerks back before the smell of alcohol registers and she forces her body to settle as the guy who went to Cambridge rummages through a first-aid kit.  

“You went to Cambridge?” 

“I was on display in their Egyptology department.” 

“Ah. Of course. Naturally.” She swallows hard a few times. “So you’re—“ 

“Ahkmenrah. Fourth king of the fourth king.” 

“Right. And you’re all—?” 

“We’re all _not talking_ till you do some explaining, lady,” Larry butts in. 

“That’s reasonable, I guess. What do you want to know?” 

“Who are you, first of all?” Larry crosses his arms over his chest and gives her a look that’s probably supposed to be intimidating, but she’s Kate Bishop, so, well…it’s less than successful. “Is your name even Kate Bishop?” 

“Yes, my name is Kate Bishop. I’m looking for something.” 

“Looking for something,” Sacagawea repeats, her voice flat.  

“Yeah, so that the wrong people don’t get their hands on it.” 

“The _wrong people_?” Understanding dawns in Larry’s eyes. “So, what, you’re the right people? You’re some kind of spy, aren’t you?” 

“I’m not a spy.” Four historical figures and one night guard glare at Kate just as she remembers what Larry told her about Attila enjoying ripping people apart. She also takes a moment to read the room. She’s pretty good at reading people when those people aren’t Loki, and these people don’t seem sinister. Maybe she’s just projecting since one of them is wearing her grandmother’s face. 

“If I explain why I’m here, will you explain what the _hell_ is going on?” 

The five of them exchange looks and a series of gestures before Ahkmenrah nods. “We will.” 

“Swell.” Kate sighs, takes a deep breath, and begins. “I’m not a spy, for starters. I’m here on behalf of SHIELD—Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division,” she clarifies when she gets a lot of blank stares. “Not all the time, I freelance for them, they told me to get a day job—“ 

“Holy shit, are you an Avenger?” Larry interrupts. Sacagawea elbows him in the side and gestures that Kate should continue.  

“Uh. Well, yeah. But that’s—“ 

“Which one?” 

“Does it matter?” Kate tilts her head at him. “Honestly, I thought this assignment was just Phil being a dick, but clearly,” she shakes her head. “It’s very real. There’s a time-traveling douchebag who calls himself Kang the Conqueror and he wants something from this museum. We got a hot tip from…well, from Kang’s past self, Nate, who would prefer to be a time-traveling hero and _not_ a time-traveling douchebag, that his future self was going to come here to get an artifact of immense power.” 

Larry stares at her. “I’m going to call an ambulance.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Because you’re _clearly_ insane.” 

“I’m not insane! What do I have to do, call Captain America for you to believe me? I can do that.”  

Larry does not look convinced. 

“You mean to tell me you buy museum exhibits coming to life, but _time travel_ is too much for you to handle?” 

“She makes a fair point, my boy!” Teddy Roosevelt’s doppleganger claps Larry on the shoulder.  

“They’re just reenactors,” Larry insists.  

Kate laughs, but that makes her head hurt which makes her feel woozy which makes her feel like she’s going to black out for a minute. 

Larry steadies her, gripping her shoulder as he peers at her face. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want a Sprite, or something?” Worry is etched in his face, like he’s afraid she’s going to pass out, or puke. “Ginger ale?” 

“I’m fine. I’m just having a very vivid hallucination. Give me a minute.” 

“You are not hallucinating,” Sacagawea informs Kate, which honestly doesn’t sell the point. 

“She’s right, my girl!” Teddy Roosevelt booms. “We are as real as you or Lawrence!” 

“Woah, guys, really? We might need her to believe you’re not real,” Larry butts in, to no avail. 

“Am I real?” Kate mutters, blinking hard to fight the fog in her head. She catches the worried glances of the historical figures before realizing what she said, and the probable reason for her saying it.  

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” Larry asks again. “You are bleeding a _lot_. I can’t have you die here.” 

Kate rolls her eyes and attempts to stand up. 

And, you know, fails. The pharaoh catches her elbow as she sways hard to the side. “Uh, yeah, maybe that ginger ale? And I’m going to need the drone, so if you could grab that from your Easter Island friend on your way back up, that would be great. You have really pretty eyes,” she informs Ahkmenrah, who blushes. Sacagawea hides her laugh behind a cough. Larry hides his glare behind nothing. 

Larry starts to the main hall, but stops abruptly, spinning back around. “Teddy, would you mind? I’m not sure I want to leave her here alone. Leave you guys alone with her.” 

Teddy Roosevelt nods at the night guard. 

Well, it’s not the weirdest thing she’s ever experienced, but it’s up there. 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

“Here you are, Miss Bishop,” Teddy Roosevelt hands her a can of ginger ale with a bendy straw in it, which is a nice gesture, and pulls out the mangled drone from his saddlebag. “And the automaton.” 

Kate sets her drink on the slab that covers Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus and turns the rounded hunk of metal in her hands. “Yep,” she says, mostly to herself as she finds what she’s looking for. “There was some sort of something in it that would knock out whoever whatevered on it and I must have gotten dosed with some of it when I headbutted it. That’s what the,” she makes an explosion gesture near her ear, trying to convey the pulsing lightheadedness she feels, “is all about.” 

The five stare at her for a minute. 

“ _What_?” Larry is the first to break the silence.  

“A knockout drug! In the robot spy!” Kate brandishes said robot. “Which I inhaled, or got some in my cut, when I destroyed it!” 

“Why is there a robot spy in the museum?” 

“I don’t know, dude, maybe it has something to do with, oh, I don’t know, the museum _being alive?_ ” 

“That is a fair point,” Ahkmenrah admits.  

“Thank you.” Kate smiles.  

A significant glance is exchanged between the museum’s inhabitants.  

“Clearly, you know what I’m talking about.” Kate takes a long pull from the straw, gulping soda as if this will somehow clear her head; oddly enough, it does. “Right. Your turn. Tell me what’s what.” 

“Woah, woah, no, wait a minute,” Larry shakes his head. “What happens if this Kang guy gets his hands on what he’s looking for? Which Avenger are you?” 

“Well since I don’t know what he’s looking for or what it does, I can’t exactly tell you, now can I? It won’t be good. It will probably involve lots of killing, or Kang taking over some country or planet or living forever and ruling for all eternity. Or rewriting the past. Traveling back in time and killing all the Avengers as babies. Sending heroes back in time and enslaving them to do his murderous bidding. Just for example.” 

More significant looks are exchanged.  

“That sounds…pretty bad,” Larry admits. “I’m not saying I buy your story, but if it’s possible, it sounds bad.” 

“If it can be dreamed, it can be done,” Teddy Roosevelt interjects.  

“That don’t sound like a dream, compadre. That sounds like a nightmare,” a new voice says, though Kate can’t figure out where it’s coming from, not unless Attila’s hat comes alive, too. 

“Well then,” Larry fills the awkward silence.  

“Introductions!” Teddy Roosevelt clicks his heels together, his hand on his sword as he bows a bit. “Theodore Roosevelt, at your service.” 

“I’m Sacagawea,” the woman says, extending her hand to Kate. 

Kate clasps her hand, but shakes her head. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you are freaking me right the fuck out.” 

“What?” Roosevelt seems more indignant than Sacagawea, who simply smiles a little at Kate. 

“Because I have your grandmother’s face, yes?” 

“Yeah, and my mom looked a _lot_ like my grandma. So it’s—“ 

“I can see where that would be startling.” 

Larry clears his throat. “And this is Attila the Hun—you probably can’t see them, but Jedidiah and Octavius are in his hat—“ 

“We can introduce ourselves, Gigantor!” 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t hear you saying anything, Jed.” 

“We don’t have to stand for this!” 

“Steady, my friend!” A new voice joins the conversation. “I’m sure Larry didn’t want to frighten the girl. We are fierce warriors, you and I.” 

Larry rolls his eyes. 

“And I am the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king, ruler of the land of my fathers.” 

“Right,” Kate tries not to stare.  

“He’s probably after this,” Ahkmenrah says after a beat, taking his tablet off the wall, tilting it towards her so she can get a better look at it. “This is what brings all of us in the museum to life.” 

“The entire museum.” 

“Yep. The whole thing,” Larry gestures with his flashlight. “Miniatures. Statues. Stuffed animals.” 

“But just at night?” Kate glances at Larry. “That’s why you were freaking out about me being here at night.” 

“Correct,” Ahkmenrah taps his fingers against the gold. “From sundown to sunup, everything in the museum comes alive.” 

Kate’s brain is still a little sluggish so it takes her a few moments to order her thoughts. “But just what’s in the museum? Just in the building? Or is it a certain distance?” 

“It’s more the physical boundaries of a place,” Larry cuts in. “The tablet made it to the Federal Archives and every museum in the Smithsonian came to life.” 

Kate has to take a minute to find chill because _oh my god that is so cool_ , though if the looks she’s getting are any indication, she’s hiding this very poorly.  

“And so at sunup, you all go back to being…?” 

“Wax,” Teddy says.  

“Polyurethane,” Sacagawea adds.  

“Ma-le ka shou do,” is Attila’s contribution. 

“Excellent point, my friend,” Ahkmenrah nods at the Hun. “Teddy and Sacagawea are still wax and polyurethane at night, but they are living.” 

“But everything goes back to being not-alive when the sun comes up.” 

Ahkmenrah nods at Kate with a small smile.  

“Do you go back to being a mummy?” 

“Of course.” 

“Huh.” 

“Oh, and, if the sunlight touches them, they turn to dust,” Larry adds.  

A solemn hush descends over the group. 

“Well, that’s not it, then,” Kate dusts her hands off on her slacks, hopping off of the edge of the display. “We need to check the archives.” 

“Wait, what?” Larry trails after her. “What do you mean, that’s not it? It’s a magic tablet!” 

“Yes, it’s a magic tablet with very impressive magical powers but it also has some pretty firm rules, right? So yeah, it could be the tablet, but if it’s _not_ I would rather know that now than after it’s stole…” She drifts off, staring at the hieroglyphics that decorate Ahkmenrah’s exhibit. “Hey, have you heard of Rama-Tut?” 

“He was before my time,” Ahkmenrah comes to a stop next to her, arms crossed over his chest. “I did study his reign as a lesson in how _not_ to rule.” 

“Naturally.” 

“Why do you ask?” 

“Because that was Kang.” 

“Ah.” His posture stiffens, his jaw going tight. Ahkmenrah glances at her out of the corner of his eye before turning to his friends. “We would do well to help her.” 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

It’s night three of being elbow-deep in the archives of the museum, the soft metallic sound of drawers being open underscored by an almost-constant chorus of Larry, Kate, and Ahk sneezing.  

Every so often, someone will call out to Kate with a description of an item, and she’ll go over to them and take a look. Sometimes she takes photos with her phone, but usually she just looks at the item in question and shakes her head with a sigh. 

“Well, hell, lady, how do you know this ain’t it?” Jedidiah snaps after the fifth time he and Octavius and a few other miniatures called her over. 

“I don’t! That’s the point! I’m just as frustrated as you, Buffalo Bill—“ 

“Friends,” Ahkmenrah strides towards him, his robes billowing impressively. “Let us not be discouraged.”  

“Indeed!” Octavius agrees. “We have met many challenges and overcome them! The might of Rome…the might of the museum will not fail!” 

It takes another two nights for Octavius to be proven right, when Kate opens up a box in the archives and bursts out laughing.  

She laughs so hard she cries, wiping her tears on Ahkmenrah’s robe, holding a bronze device in her hand, with _KANG SUX_ etched into it. 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Two days later and there’s still no Kang.  

Kate isn’t sure when, exactly, he’s supposed to show up, but she’s not complaining. This is actually a pretty cool assignment, at least, now that she knows what she’s protecting.  

She’s never had what most people would call a normal job, so the whole experience is kind of novel. Not that this is a normal job, by any stretch, but it does have set hours and an hour off for lunch and clocking in and out, and far less paperwork than she’s used to. And fewer injuries. 

And fewer evil people with delusions of grandeur.  

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Kang interrupts movie night.  

This is actually a much bigger deal than it might sound; movie nights occur twice a month: one is an excursion to see something in theatres, if any exhibits are so inclined, and one is an in-house movie night. 

And if it had been any of the miniatures’ turn to pick, Kang’s attack might have been met with more excitement than anger—Jed and Octavius tend to pick Youtube playlists of cat videos, or so Kate’s been told.  

Tonight’s movie night was Hun’s choice, and everyone had been looking forward to Wall-E. 

When you look at it like that, Kang really has no one to blame but himself.  

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Everyone has just finished settling in, snack of choice in hand, and Octavius has just ordered, “Let the cinematic viewing experience commence!” when Kate feels it. It’s not a sensation easily put into words—a strange electric tug, like static electricity pulling one’s hair. Or the way air displaces when America kicks into a universe, but smaller.  

It doesn’t register as Kang right away, just as something different, something that has her on her feet, retrieving her bow from the information desk. Larry catches her eye and she gives a small shake of her head. There’s no need to get everyone in a tizzy because Kate’s nerves are frayed from too much—well, just her life, actually. Almost everyone is engrossed in the movie; she sees Sacagawea’s beads swaying even though she’s facing forward, her hand on Teddy’s knee. Her chin tilts in an almost imperceptible nod, as if to say, _go, if you need help, I will be there_.  

Kate is halfway up the stairs when she hears a swish of fabric.  

“What is it?” Ahkmenrah whispers.  

“Nothing!” Kate hisses. “Go back and enjoy the movie. It’s probably nothing.” 

“And if it isn’t nothing?” He points out. “Larry insists on the buddy system, so I cannot let you investigate alone.” 

“Are you—that’s for the _exhibits_ , you goob, not _Avengers_.” 

Ahkmenrah looks very unimpressed. “You are a part of this museum.” 

“I can _not_ have this argument right now.” 

“Kate Bishop, Hawkeyed Avenger, this museum is my home. I do not need your permission to protect it.” 

Kate’s mouth works soundlessly for a moment, caught between wondering when he figured out who she was and realizing that he’s right, this is his home. 

“Fine. Just. Stay low, and be quiet.” 

Kate knows something is wrong by the time they make it to the top of the stairs. She huddles behind the bannister, peering around the corner, but even if she doesn’t see anything, she can taste it in the air; she can hear Ahkmenrah swallowing behind her, so it’s not just her. 

Ahk nods towards his wing, and Kate feels so _stupid_ for a moment, because Kang’s timeship is a _sphinx_ , it doesn’t matter if he knows jack squat about the tablet, of course that’s where he’s going to park.  

He has, in fact, parked it right in front of Ahk’s room, brazen as all hell.  

“Wait here,” Kate hisses.  

“Did we not just discuss this?” 

“I don’t know if he knows about the tablet, and if he doesn’t then I don’t want to parade that information in front of him.”  

Ahk stares at her with his dispassionate _fourth king of the fourth king_ face. 

“Fine, follow me if you want, just—do it at a distance. I want to suss out what he knows. If it looks like he’s killing me, feel free to charge in with backup.” 

“I suppose that’s reasonable.” 

“You _suppose_?” 

“Are you going, or not?” 

Ahk looks bored, which sends _WARNING_ _WARNING_ _DANGER WILL ROBINSON_ blaring through the back of her head. 

She leaves him, ignoring her better sense, and rounds the corner of the stairs, seeing the guy who was her once and future teammate for the first time since before she could legally drive.

Kang is standing to the side of his sphinx, staring at something in his hand, looking for all the world like someone who followed the turn-by-turn directions perfectly but can’t figure out which side of the street the address is on.  

“I have no desire to kill you,” he says without looking up. “Help me find what I seek, and I will allow you to live.” 

“Oooh. Tempting, but I think I’m gonna have to pass.” 

Kang looks up at that, swiveling his head around until he sees her, and heaves a disappointed sigh. “Hawkeye.” 

“Nice to see you too, Nate.” 

Kang scowls. “I am Kang the Conqueror—“ 

“Whatever, Nate. Look. You’re not going to get what you’re looking for—“ 

“And how do you know what I’m looking for?” 

“I doubt you’re here for the mummy or the miniatures, so I’ve already narrowed my list.” 

He surveys her. It’s hard to get a read through the facemask/helmet, but Kate would guess that his expression is imperious and self-important. “What are you doing here?” 

“I work here, what are _you_ doing here?” 

“So you don’t know why I’m here.” 

“It’s a figure of speech.” 

Kang frowns at the device in his hands. “My younger self hid something here. He seemed to think it would be heavily guarded.” He shoots a smirk at Kate. “Clearly, he was wrong.” 

Something about the way he keeps looking at the thing in his hand and down the halls nags at Kate. “Do _you_ know what you’re looking for?” 

“Of course I do!” 

“If you don’t know what you’re looking for, then how do you know you need it?” 

“I know exactly what I’m looking for!” He shouts, shoulders back, spine straight, puffing his chest out as though if he can make himself look bigger, Kate will be convinced of his omnipotence. 

“Clearly. You know, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what we’re looking for.” 

Kang growls at her before acquiescing. “It is a piece to my ship that allows me to make larger, longer leaps through time. Without it, I am limited in how much time I can cover in a single jump.” 

“And you can’t just make a new one? Aren’t you a genius or something?” 

“If I could _make_ it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, now would we?” 

“So Nate…hid it from you? Why wouldn’t he just destroy it?” 

“I don’t have the time to explain the intricacies of time travel to you!” 

“Wait, you have a time machine, but you don’t have the time to explain how it works? False advertising much?” 

Kang’s face contorts in fury. 

And this, it must be said, is the _true_ Hawkeye power. Yeah, there’s the archery and the aim, but that’s skill. The Hawkeye superpower is the ability to needle someone, poking at them, irritating them until they do something incredibly stupid. 

Like grab you by the throat, say, and slam you against the grating that locks off the Egypt room from the hallway.  

Kang’s hand clenches around her neck and her quiver is making her spine do weird things, but Kate still has to fight to keep the smile off her face. “So, what, he can’t kill you, and you can’t kill him, so you just…troll each other through time and space?” 

Two things happen almost simultaneously.  

The first thing that happens is that Kang flings her back down the hallway towards the stairs with a roar. 

The second thing is that, as soon as she is out of Kang’s grasp, Ahkmenrah’s giant Anubis guards stab their spears through the metal grating at Kang. 

Kate hears a great crack and then a sparking sound, but doesn’t see what caused it because by that point she is no longer airborne, and is instead skidding painfully along the floor, most of the impact absorbed by her shoulder, some of it by her head. 

The air is knocked out of her lungs so she can’t even manage a proper curse, just a hopeless gasp for oxygen as she tries to remind her body how to breathe. She needs to remember _fast_ because Kang is racing towards her, one of his arms hanging oddly, the device still clenched in his hand. 

She isn’t moving fast enough, her legs not getting under her and her lungs still struggling but this is what she _does_. She’s human, and she stands shoulder to shoulder or toe to toe with people who are _more_ than that, damnit, so she makes it to her feet, fingers fumbling for an arrow— 

There is a growl behind her, and Kate is buffeted by a rush of lions who waste no time in bowling Kang over and taking bites at him.  

“I got bored waiting for him to start trying to kill you,” Ahkmenrah deadpans. “I hope that’s all right.” 

Kang throws one of the lions down to the second floor, the other towards his ship. 

They’ll be fine, but it’s still heart-stopping to see, still floods her with worry about their well-being.  

“So,” Kang stands, looking a little unnerved but not deterred. “The Tablet of Ahkmenrah is here, is it? I thought it was nothing but a myth. Once was a time I would have razed whole cities to get it. But if you show me where—” 

Kate and Ahkmenrah don’t get to hear the rest of the deal, because the mammoth barrels behind them, scooping Kang up in its tusks, tossing him down into the waiting arms of the Huns.  

“Do you think he will try to steal the tablet?”Ahkmenrah has a khopesh held loosely in his hand. Kate didn’t even know his display _had_ weapons. 

“Oh, for sure. But we can definitely make him realize it’s not worth his while, and it’s going to cause him a great deal of pain—“ Kate glances down at the Huns, who each have a limb and are pulling “and inconvenience to get.” 

A loud ripping noise interrupts her train of thought. The Huns haven’t managed to tear Kang limb from limb but they have managed to tear one of the arms of his suit off, which Kate is almost certain is nearly impossible.  

The Huns are emboldened by this success and, spurred on by Attila’s shouted encouragement, pull harder. 

Kang, for his part, does indeed look worried, an expression that changes to outright horror when Rexy looms over him, chomping down on Kang's torso and yanking him out of the hands of the Huns.  

It's probably the most _Jurassic_ _Park_ moment of Kate's life. Rexy tosses Kang into the air, only to snap fossilized teeth back around him. 

"Rexy!" Teddy says in his Rough Rider voice. "Drop the time traveler! Rexy! Drop!" 

Rexy shakes Kang like a rag doll before dropping him with a _thud_.  

Kate's head starts to throb just as Kang struggles to his feet and takes off down the hall. 

"I need to call this in," she tells Ahk. "But do you want SHIELD to know that you guys come alive, or what?" 

"Give it a minute," Larry says, handing her an ice pack and gesturing to her head. "You got like a, a _giant_ goose egg there." 

Kate probes her forehead gently, wincing when she encounters the lump. The hall is strangely silent. "Wait." Kate pulls down her ice so she can give Larry a full wait-a-minute look. "He went into the hall of miniatures." 

"Is that a question? It doesn't sound like a question." 

"Yes," Ahk answers, offering her his arm in a way that is very chivalrous and probably slightly anachronistic for an Egyptian pharaoh, but hey, who is she to judge? "Shall we?" 

Kate takes his arm, and after a second of thought, snags Larry's sleeve and drags him along.  

Kang is sprawled out on the floor of the Hall of Miniatures, limbs tied down by cord-thin ropes, a Roman legion hooking a train to his mask. He's got approximately a thousand Mayan poison darts sticking out of his suit, the majority of them gathered in the tears of his suit. 

A _ye-haw! s_ ounds from the floor and steam belches from the tiny engine and slowly, slowly, they manage to tear Kang's mask off. 

 _I don't get paid enough for this_ , Kate thinks, before wondering, _wait_ , do _I get paid enough for this? How much do I get paid?_  

"Hi, Nate. This was a bad idea, wasn't it?" 

Nate just sort of groggily moans at her. 

"He's out, little lady," Jed informs her. "Like a canary in a mine." 

"He's dying?" 

"What? No! He's just—why do you have to ruin the dramatic tension?" 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

The sun is rising and Kate has just finished filling out her report. She and the museum crew went back and forth a lot, in a do-we-don't-we tell them kind of way. For a few minutes, Kate has a heady feeling—she can actually fill out the fabled subsection six of a mission report, the one that has checkboxes labeled _Historical Figure-American_ and _Extinct Animal-Dinosaur_ before realizing that checking any of those boxes in the _Civilian Assistance-Other_ category will have a profound, and probably negative, impact on the denizens of the museum.  

Because if SHIELD knew, Phil would have told her this.  

So the paperwork is pretty straightforward. She documents her injuries and just ignores the small feathered blow darts sticking out of Kang. She pretends there aren't any teeth marks in his suit, and that his timeship doesn't have a large, strangely circular hole in it. All she does is tick the box that says _Civilian Assistance-coworker_ and fills in the blank next to it with _Larry Daly, Night Guard (supervisor)._  

Kate has her feet square on Nate's chest when Phil and Maria finally show up, Doc Strange in tow. He raises an eyebrow at her, but otherwise doesn't comment on the decidedly not-normal state of things. He's the Sorcerer Supreme, he's got to know that there's some ancient magic in this place, right? 

Phil flips through her paperwork, stopping at what she suspects is subsection six before looking up at her. "You apprehended Kang with only the help of a night guard?" 

"He's really good at his job." 

Maria looks very Not Impressed by this answer. "The two of you captured Kang _and_ his ship. Alone. With no help." 

"Are you saying you don't believe I could do it?" 

Phil swallows a laugh. "Right. Well, we'll take him into custody. I expect to see you in the next twenty-four hours for a debrief, Hawkeye." 

"Okay, but I have work tomorrow night." 

"What?" Maria looks like she wants to throttle Kate, just a little. 

"Work. I have to work. Larry told me I could keep the job, even though I kinda messed up the Hall of Miniatures getting Kang down. What? Isn't hard work supposed to build character?" 

"Fine." Hill says after a moment, her lips a thin line. "But you tell Daly that if we need you to come in, you come in. And I'd better never see you ride into a fight on Tex, are we clear, Bishop?" 

"Yes ma'am." 

"Bully." 

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Larry hands Kate two aspirin and a bottle of water as Kang is loaded into a magically-reinforced truck and his ship is loaded into another of the same. "So, are you being reassigned, Agent Hawkeye?" 

"Not yet." 

"Good." Larry smiles at her before pulling something off of his belt. "Here." 

He slaps a maglite into her palm. "Welcome to the museum." 

**Author's Note:**

> well what even just happened.  
> item the first: if any of you are following my currently-being-rewritten opus, Riptide, you may recall that _in_ said fic, Kate is of mixed heritage, with a super white dad while her mother is Navajo/Dine and Japanese which, INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH is quite similar to Mizuo Peck's background? which I didn't know until I was eyeballs deep in this  
>  item the second: I may add another chapter to this with all the alternate endings I thought up for it; I honestly couldn't decide if I wanted to be shippy or gen, did I want to bring Cassie and Scott in? Steve and Bucky? Who knows? Not me! so I might do that, idk


End file.
